Django Wexler - The Shadow Throne

“What did you do?”

“Nothing much. You know how I had to buy all those bills so we could give them away?”

Raesinia nodded.

“Well, I had to have some kind of a cover for why I wanted so much Second Pennysworth debt, or else people would have figured out something was up. So I arranged to sell Pennysworth bills at the same time, to make it look like we were just moving some investment around.”

“But if you sold the bills-”

“I arranged to sell them in the Viadre market. They’re not due for another three days. It takes time to ship the things to Borel, after all.”

“But you haven’t got the bills anymore. We gave them away.”

“Right.” Cora smiled. “Actually, when I saw the prices, I ended up selling a lot more than I ever bought.”

“So what you’re telling me,” Raesinia said, struggling to follow, “is that someone is going to be very angry with you when it turns out you’ve sold merchandise you can’t deliver?”

“Oh no!” Cora looked genuinely surprised at the idea. “No, you don’t understand. Once the bank collapses, the bills will be practically worthless. I’ll just buy the purchasers out of their contracts at a couple of pennies on the eagle. They might still be angry, but I think most of Viadre will be in a panic once the news of this gets there.”

“So. .,” Raesinia prompted.

“We get to keep the money from the sales,” Cora said, in a speaking-to-children voice. “But we don’t actually have to deliver anything.”

“So you’ve made money.”

Cora nodded.

“A lot of money?”

She nodded again, a little hesitantly. “I didn’t think I should do it without asking you first, but we didn’t have very long, and if I’d taken the time to track you down, the market would have closed. .”

“Cora,” Raesinia said, taking her hand. “Come with me.”

Cora’s face was a mask of panic as Raesinia dragged her through the balcony doors and into the suite. Sarton was still watching the crowd, but Ben was there, and Faro had brought up a canvas sack full of bottles. When he saw Raesinia, he picked up a glass flute full of sparkling white and waved it in her direction.

“Raes!” he said. “Come on! We’re celebrating!”

Raesinia took the flute from Faro and presented it to Cora.

“You deserve it,” Raesinia said. “After we win, I’m going to ask the deputies to make you Minister of Finance.”

I really will, Raesinia thought, as the teenager sipped the bubbly wine. God knows she couldn’t be worse than the last few men who’ve gotten the job. Her father had many fine attributes, but paying attention to eagles and pennies was not one of them, and his Treasury heads tended to be chosen for their political connections rather than their competence. Then there was Grieg, one of Orlanko’s minions, who’d spent the last five years building the tax farm into his private empire. A little girl would make for a nice change of pace.

“By the way,” Faro said, “I had to stash Danton in the front bedroom. We’ll have to figure out some way to get him out without anyone noticing.”

Raesinia rounded on him. “You brought him here ?”

Faro shrugged. “His room at the Royal was mobbed after the speech. I couldn’t think where else to put him.” He caught Raesinia’s expression. “Relax. Nobody saw us come in.”

And how the hell would you know? Faro had a high opinion of his own skill and daring, but Raesinia had her doubts. He’s certainly no Sothe.

Ben patted her on the shoulder. “Relax, Raes. It’s just until the storm passes. Have a drink, would you?”

Raesinia sighed, but accepted a flute and sipped at the wine for form’s sake.

They still don’t take it seriously. Cora had the excuse of youth, but the rest of them. . Why am I the only one who seems worried?

Some time later, they’d emptied half the bottles, and the crowd on the Exchange was finally dispersing under the stern eyes of dozens of Armsmen.

The Second Pennysworth had suspended payments just before noon, admitting to the world that it couldn’t make good on its promises. That was the turning point Raesinia had fretted over, the instant where the crowd might turn into a mob and exact violent retribution. Fortunately for all concerned, the gradual gentrification of the panic over the course of the morning meant that by the time the bank actually failed, a good proportion of those waiting in the queue were of the well-bred classes. There were shouting matches, a little shoving, and the occasional swooning or fit of hysterics, but it was no longer the type of crowd to start hurling bricks through windows. By then, too, the Armsmen were out in force, responding with unusual rapidity to the developing crisis. Raesinia had watched the lines of green form and thicken throughout the morning, and sent up a silent thanks to whoever had organized the usually lackadaisical defenders of the peace.

Sarton and Maurisk had left shortly thereafter, the former to whatever he did in his free time-nobody seemed to know-and the latter to bash out a broadsheet about how the bankruptcy of the Second Pennysworth proved the essential bankruptcy of Borelgai-style finance. Back in the suite, Ben and Faro were playing some kind of game that involved dice and many, many glasses of wine. Cora was dozing on the sofa, curled up like a cat. Raesinia found herself wandering out of the living room and into the little anteroom, where doors led to the pair of bedrooms and the tiny private kitchen.

One of the bedroom doors was open a few inches, and a wan light shone from within. Raesinia went over and found Danton sitting on a neatly made bed, still wearing his hat and boots. He looked up, his face splitting into a broad, childlike grin.

“Hello, Princess!”

Raesinia slipped into the room and eased the door closed. “Hello, Danton. What are you doing in here?”

“Thinking,” Danton said.

“Thinking about what?”

He blinked at her, as though that question made no sense. After a moment, he nodded at a half-full glass flute on the nightstand. “Faro gave me some stuff to drink, but I didn’t like it.”

“No?”

“Too many bubbles. They went up my nose.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Is there any beer?”

God Almighty. A surge of guilt broke across Raesinia like a tidal wave. Look at him. He doesn’t understand any of this. He didn’t choose this. We’re just using him, and we’re going to end up getting him killed before it’s all over.

You’re just using all of them, her conscience taunted her. Danton is no different from Ben, or Faro, or Cora. They’re just tools to get what you want. If one or two of them get broken along the way, what’s the difference?

They all chose this, though. Maurisk, Sarton, Ben, even Faro. They have their own reasons for being here.

And Cora? She doesn’t have any idea what she’s getting into.

Raesinia swallowed hard. Danton was still smiling at her. It was hard to reconcile this childlike expression with the man he’d been-or appeared to be-standing on the column in Farus’ Triumph. Does he know what he’s doing?

“Danton,” she said, “that was a good. . story you told this afternoon.”

“Did you like it, Princess?” His joyful tone made her heart lurch sickeningly. “There were a lot of people listening.”

“There certainly were.” She hesitated. “Did you understand it? The story, I mean. Do you know what it means?”

Again the look of incomprehension, as though what she’d said was a contradiction in terms. “It’s a story, Princess.”